Last Stand of Dead Men by Derek Landy

Author:Derek Landy [Derek Landy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2013-07-25T04:00:00+00:00

hina pulled up, away from the streetlamps, and checked her rear view. Satisfied that there were no motorbike headlights approaching, she pushed open the door, grimacing as she got out. The car was a Mini Cooper, a nifty little thing. But it wasn’t hers. It was the second car she’d borrowed since losing her own. And even this one had bullet holes in it.

Holding her side, she crossed the street, walking quickly. She followed the narrow alleyway, weeds spilling from cracks in the concrete, to a house that had once been small and unassuming and which now stood proudly, refurbished, remodelled, rebuilt. Eliza Scorn had been busy.

Even the door was new. It was heavy, built into an arch. Everything about this place screamed ‘church’, though there was no religious symbology that any mortal would recognise. China pushed open the door, stepped in and closed it behind her. Inside was quiet. Still.

There was a knock on the door behind her and China spun, her heart lurching. But no. Vincent Foe kicked doors down – he didn’t knock on them.

She answered it, and the expression that greeted her was most unusual. It managed to be awestruck, captivated and lustful, while at the same time shocked, shamed and terrified. Octa Gregorian Boona stared at her, his mouth opening and closing, but no sound emerging. Then he spun round, started walking away.

“Octa,” China said in a soft voice.

Octa stopped walking immediately, but didn’t turn round. His shoulders were shaking. He was crying.

“Come back here.”

He shook his head, but turned despite himself and walked back, dragging his feet. His head was down. He sniffled as he stopped in front of her.

“You probably didn’t expect to see me when you knocked on the door,” China said, careful to keep any hint of accusation from her tone. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“It’s OK,” he sobbed.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since my library was destroyed. Have you missed me?”

He nodded quickly.

“Is this where you’re bringing your little snippets of information now? To Eliza?”

Octa fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to betray you. I love you. You know I love you. But Eliza pays for the things I know. She pays me. With money. Not … not promises or …”

“Octa,” said China, “when did I ever promise you anything?”

He looked up, tears in his eyes, his face splotchy and red. “You didn’t promise with your words. It was the … It was my own hope.”

“I can hardly be held responsible for that, now can I?”

“No.”

“And I didn’t think I had to pay you. I never viewed you as an informant, Octa. To me, you were a friend. If you wanted me to pay you, you should have told me. Then I’d have known things were strictly business between us.”

“No,” said Octa, “they weren’t. There’s something between us, China. I don’t care about money. I care about you. I love you.”

“You are so sweet. So what did you come to tell Eliza about?”

“Just something I heard about the Warlocks.

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